


For The First Time In Seventy Years

by KarenHikari



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, mother/son relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:37:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5666299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarenHikari/pseuds/KarenHikari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And so he cried, and he mourned Maria di Angelo, his mother, for the first time in seventy years, because for the first time in seventy years he knew what he was crying for, and he was aware of how tear-worthy had that woman been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For The First Time In Seventy Years

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I don't even know what to say. I swear to you I've had this story in drafts, but life happened and I sincerely had had no time to post this out. Like, seriously, remember in October, when I said that November would be a better month after I presented a theatre play I was in? Well, I was totally wrong. After that, I participated in not one, but two Speech contests (in my defense I won second place in one and first in the second, so at least that didn't go bad) and then in a Spelling contest (which I didn't win at all but I reached the last four finalists), and that absolutely ate my time.
> 
> Right now, of course, I'm buried under work, again, and this time it's serious stuff because midterms start next week but I'm here, posting fanfiction. Vacations came and went by and I didn't do half of the things I was supposed to do. Seriously, where is my time one Earth going?
> 
> Anyways, this is just a little something I wrote. You are all aware (hopefully) of this headcanon I have of Persephone being nice, and I've been meaning to write something with Maria and Nico for a very, very long time, and when the fact about Nico being gay and his mother still having lived and died during the 1940's, it was just too much to bear and I had to write this down, so here you finally have it.
> 
> I hope this isn't as bad as my schedule seems right now and I really hope you enjoy reading it!
> 
> PD: Nico is sixteen years old because why not. I figured I had worked with him on several parts of the series, but only once in a story in which he's older so... yeah, that's it.

To say that Nico di Angelo had a bunch of weird stories and experiences to share was an understandment. First of all, he was a demigod and most of all, he was a son of Hades. However, that did not mean that he'd seen everything that the mythological world had to offer.

That conclusion came one morning —at least he thought it was the morning, as it was hard to be sure in the Underworld— while he ate breakfast with Hades and Persephone. And one might think that well, of course it was a strange scene to presence—the Lord of the Underworld and his wife, Persephone, sitting to the table in the company of Hades' offspring peacefully, like a normal family, if only a bit silent, but the truth was that the three of them, together, were not a sight out of the ordinary in Hades' domain, but rather a common one for them. What Hades said next, though…

Putting his silverware down and straightening himself in the opulent chair, Hades let out a sigh before finally speaking.

"Nico" he murmured, making both the demigod and his wife flinch slightly. "Persephone and I… we were thinking that…"

"We remembered how you had asked about your mother a few years aback" Persephone corroborated after realizing her husband had ran out of words.

To the goddess' words, Nico couldn't help but raised a confused eyebrow.

Of course he remembered the question he had asked, it was not as if one could forget the fact that you hardly knew anything about his past. And of course he remembered the anxiety he'd felt upon discovering that he had been pulled out of the time he'd been born in and robbed out of his memory, the sickening feeling that had filled his chest when he'd thought about how both his mother and sister were dead, how one of them had been not only for years but for decades, how he was utterly alone in this mortal and modern world.

However, that had been years in the past, before the war against Gaia and even before the war against Kronos. Things had changed.

After the Titan War his relationship with Hades had improved, and the one with Persephone too. Especially after the war against Gaia he had gotten close to actual living people. In fact, he was currently living in the Greek camp and only stayed in the Underworld once in a while, when his father called for him, like that morning, for example.

It had been a very long time ever since he had felt he was missing something only because he couldn't summon memories of his long-dead mother. He had family and friends, however bizarre and eccentric they were.

On the other side, that did not mean that he had completely forgotten about Maria di Angelo.

"Yes?" he questioned at last, trying to meet gazes with his stepmother, but only to find Persephone's green eyes had fell to her lap; she didn't seem bound to look up for a long while.

Sighing, Hades realized his wife was not going to help him out this time and decided to answer.

"I… we" he corrected himself. "We were thinking that maybe… Well, I had prohibited you to summon your mother's spirit, as I thought that it would be for the best… for you, I mean, right?" Hades asked.

Slowly, Nico nodded, more confused than before, if even possible.

"I… well, now that time has passed and things have stabilized I think that… that you… Would you be interested in seeing her?" Hades finally yielded, looking defeated.

If Nico had been more confused before, now he was flabbergasted. Almost taken aback by his father's words, all that he could do was send nervous glances from his father to Persephone —whose eyes remained focused on her lap— and then back to Hades.

"You mean like… like meeting her?" he almost stuttered.

To the boy's words, Persephone shrunk a little in her chair; Hades flinched.

"Yes. Like you seeing her again" Hades let out in a low voice. Nico's heart skipped a beat just a millisecond after realized that his father was being serious.

His first impulse was, naturally, to answer a yes. Of course he wanted to see his mother; a family was the one thing he had craved for after Bianca's death, and to meet his mother was… well, he thought that it would result in simply being one of those impossible wishes people dragged along with them through their lives.

On the other side, he thought with a sting of pain as he dwelled on Persephone's hunched over figure, he had a family and he had a mother, even if they hadn't started off with the right foot.

"I…" he murmured. "Are you being serious?"

"I am, boy, you can be sure" Hades pointed out, almost tiredly. "And I will respect your wish, have that granted. You can answer whatever you want".

Inhaling sharply, Nico let his black eyes wander nervously through his father's features.

He wanted to say yes. He didn't yearn for it as desperately as he had six years in the past, right after Bianca's death but… to have such an opportunity and to not take advantage of it… It sounded almost lame to be the son of Hades or the Ghost King when he was not even able to summon his own mother.

He just… there were so many things he wanted to tell her, to ask her, to know… He had idealized Maria as a loving mother and even when Persephone had been very comprehensive and tolerant when the time came to discuss the matter, Nico had never dared ask many of the things to his father, mainly, because it almost sounded stupid or childish.

It was a movement to his left what brought him back from his thoughts—on her seat, Persephone raised her green eyes to meet his black ones and smiled, a look midway between hurt and loving in her emerald orbs. As he saw her smile, Nico could almost physically feel a huge weight being lifted from his chest. She approved, Persephone approved. And that was the last thing that he needed to know in order to make his decision.

"I would like to see her, father" he murmured with a strangled voice. "Of course I would like it".

Hades nodded, almost in a defeated manner before standing up.

"Come with me, then" he ordered as he started walking to the dining room's door.

Shocked and puzzled, Nico brought himself to his feet and followed his father out of the room. Absently, he heard Persephone's chair been dragged through the floor and her light steps on the marbled floor. He could have sworn he'd heard her sigh.

He didn't really know how much time had gone by before his father stopped and he really didn't recognize the wing of the castle they had entered either. Gods could make a building appear from the bottom of the sea after all, and if with only one twist of his wrist Hades had erected a whole new side of his castle, well, those were just occupational hazards.

It was until his father stopped walking that he, too, stopped and raised his eyes, focusing them for the first time on the white door placed in front of them.

Hades turned to look at him, a tired expression in his eyes. The god didn't need to say anything for Nico to understand—Maria, his mother well, her spirit, or soul or whatever it was that people left after having lived and that Hades would allow him to see of her, was in there. This was the closest he'd been to her in seventy years.

Before Hades said anything, Persephone overtook him and knelt in front of Nico. There was a pained expression in her features, but her green eyes were so concerned that Nico was almost tempted to assure her that he was okay. He stayed silent.

She put both her hands in Nico's shoulders and smiled, the gesture so soft and so sincere that Nico could almost feel the loneliness that hung in the air, something that the Fates hadn't forced him to feel for a very long time.

"Good luck" she whispered softly. Sometime before, they had come with the habit of her kissing his forehead whenever she wanted to give him her farewell. The truth was, he didn't know how to be a son, and she didn't know how to be a mother, which meant that their whole relationship consisted in trying different things and see what worked for them.

This time, however, she stopped herself from leaning down and brushing her lips against the boy's forehead and pressed her lips together instead. She then stood up hurriedly. The sound of her heals got lost in the long hallway before Nico could even process Persephone's actions.

For a second, Nico wanted to turn around and catch up with his stepmother and tell her that he loved her, that he didn't want to lose her, that he couldn't afford losing her. But his throat was sore and he wasn't sure that he could even speak if he tried. Fortunately, Hades stopped his wanderings by talking again.

"You may enter now" he said, his gaze lost in the horizon of the hallway in which his wife had just disappeared in.

Hades opened the door and stepped in first, his features carefully emptied of emotion. Slowly, almost shyly, Nico followed him inside and closed the door behind him. He wanted to keep his eyes glued to the floor so much that it almost physically hurt him; still, he forced himself to recognize the room before allowing himself to turn his black orbs back to the floor.

The room was painted white, with the details in a soft blue. It was big, like the sitting room for a piano in a Victorian house, except, maybe, that this room was empty, with the only furniture of the place being a dark crimson couch and a small circled table besides it. Right on the other side of the room, parallel to the door through which they had entered there was another door, an exact copy of the first one, closed. There were no windows.

It wasn't until Nico had almost turned his eyes to the marbled floor again that he noted her.

She was standing next to the table, with her back turned to the newcomers. Her long, raven hair swirled around her, almost floating gracefully, even when there was no wind running through the room. She was wearing a classic Victorian dress in a soft color that Nico couldn't differ thus the shadows that surrounded her. Her eyes—dark brown, almost black, Nico knew. Dark brown eyes, just like Bianca's and his own—were lost in the opposite wall, distant, almost absently.

Once again, different emotions, more than he dared to count piled up inside him, obfuscating his actions. First and foremost, he wanted to run to her, to circle her waist, to feel her wrapping her arms around him like he… like he thought he remembered she had done when he was younger.

On the other side, he was scared. Immensely, highly, ridiculously terrified of a rejection. Over the time, he had started to remember, to remember simple things, like her smile, her eyes, her scent, which he treasured—but they were just specks, just sparkles of things he thought he knew but was not even sure if they were actual memories or only desires of what he wished for and craved it had been.

And so he stayed behind Hades, like one of those little kids that were scared of something and hid behind their mothers' skirts—with the only exception that he was hiding from the one person he was supposed to be hiding behind of.

Probably he would have stayed at the heels of his father for whatever was left of his life, but Hades had different plans for him, which included stepping back, pushing Nico in front of him in the process and then closing the door after he'd left the room in a forceful stride, unable to stand the look of brokenness he surely knew would be in the eyes of that amazing woman he'd once had an affair with.

The thump of the door as it closed sent the woman —Maria— wincing. Her hair flew around her figure like a cloud of shadows as she turned.

Her features were sharp, and yet, at the very same time, they seemed to soften at the end of her high cheekbones and pronounced breastbones, like the ones of a porcelain doll. But what really was amazing about her were her eyes, shiny as a piece of obsidian, gentle like a narcissus.

"Nico…?" she whispered, more like breath out, her eyes as soft as melted chocolate.

He couldn't step forward, he couldn't answer, he could hardly try to make the woman in front of him resemble the lady of his memories.

She walked to him dragging her feet, her lips slightly opened, her features pulled back in an expression that seemed between worried and hurt, maybe even both. Shyly, almost fearfully, she knelt down in front of the boy and raised her right hand in an attempt to reach out for her son, but stopped less than too inches before touching him.

The demigod's throat was dry, his breathing labored. He thought for a moment that if only he could force his legs to work, then he would have fled, too terrified to find out who she really was or how she didn't match up the woman he had idealized.

Before he could even try to shadowtravel out of that dark place and away from the truth, she leaned down with an overwhelming amount of courage and circled her son's lean figure.

"You've grown so much" she whispered, her voice as soft as a rose's petal. Her arms were warm, her embrace careful, as if she were scared too of doing something that would break the magic, terrified of waking up and realizing she had lost this opportunity.

She pulled back slowly, so slowly that the gesture almost suggested she feared doing so, even when she was also scared of not doing it. Maybe the numerous decades in the Underworld had affected her after all.

"You're so handsome" she said, finally daring to brush her fingertips against Nico's cheek. And then, she smiled and the shadows from the place seemed to dispel all at once. She was genuinely happy, genuinely relieved to see him, and her smile was like a summer afternoon at the campfire or like listening to the children of Apollo sing.

And then, all that fear came to be so unfounded, so ridiculous. This was his mother, the one who would pull him to her lap and hum and sing to him, her velvety voice drifting him to sleep slowly. This was his mother, the one who would prepare Fetuccine Alfredo* just to see him happy even when she was lactose intolerant herself and couldn't eat it.

Suddenly, the air seemed to come back to his lungs and he could finally breathe again. Furthermost—he could speak again.

"It's really you" he murmured, a shaky statement. All at once, the freezing anxiety if before came back when he asked himself what he should say and could find no answer. "Bianca" he muttered, turning his eyes to the floor. "Bianca is dead".

To his words, Maria could only soften her eyes even more, until they revealed compassion.

"I know, tesoro*, I know" she said. "And she's gone too, my darling, but how are you? You're so tall now. You look so much like your father" over the years, he'd been told that several times, but it was the first time that someone had ever said those words as a compliment and with a welcoming tone of voice; it was also the first time he smiled after hearing so.

"They tell me that a lot" he admitted, grinning.

They sat at the crimson couch and talked. It was easy, Nico discovered, so easy that he didn't even had to think too much before saying something. Besides, Maria wanted to know everything, everything, small and big, important and trivial. She had been kept away from her son for more than seventy years, after all.

She was a good listener, Nico noted. She nodded comprehensively and smiled kindly, observing her son's movements and judging how interested he was in this or in that based on how much his eyes lit when he mentioned it.

Sometimes, Nico almost thought that she already knew what he'd just said, because Maria didn't seem surprised or had any problems to understand modern life; for example, when he mentioned Hazel and then dwelled on how he had to explain who she was and how that was not a very good idea, but Maria simply replied, never losing her smile 'Your sister, isn't she?' Ghosts had ways to keep themselves informed, after all.

It was funny, Nico realized, how both of them avoided talking about Bianca, as if Maria was trying to keep away any sad or hurtful memories that could fill that unique moment with despair instead of joy, even as she was dead too and would inevitably have to leave at some point.

For the moment, however, they simply enjoyed themselves, taking in as much as they could of that taste of seventy years of overdue company. Nico did the majority of the talk, which was ironic and out of the ordinary in itself, but that seemed just natural. On her side, Maria tried to remember everything that her boy said, reaching for him from time to time to brush his black bangs away from his forehead or simply to caress him; to let him know that she was there. Her eyes were filled with something akin to longing, to yearning, and yet, they sparkled with pride.

And for those instants, she could almost dream that she hadn't lost him, that they hadn't lost each other, that those accursed seventy years hadn't passed. For those instants, they were mother and son again, and they were together once more.

Probably hours had passed, but they felt like mere minutes when Maria's body suddenly stiffened and she straightened in her seat, turning to the corners of the room worriedly, almost expecting something to appear after her before grimacing. She sighed painfully.

"I have to go" she said, for the first time letting ache taint her tone. "Our time is up".

The room seemed to fill with cold immediately, as if her words had absorbed all the warmth of her smile, and yet, Nico still found the strength and the resignation to nod. He had been given a last chance to stare into her eyes, to hear her voice once more, and that was much more than the other souls could say.

"I-I understand" he stuttered, standing up and helping her to her feet after that. Wanting to light her son's smile once again, Maria made an exaggerated and gracious curtsey, remembering something that they used to do seventy years in the past as a game.

"I see you're a gentleman, my principe*" she said proudly.

They stood one in front of the other, looking into each other's eyes knowing they had to say good-bye but finding themselves unable to part from the one they had longed to see, let alone hold for so long. Maria sighed, deciding she was the responsible adult that should take the first step.

"I may go now, tesoro" she murmured, gesturing for Nico to near her just so she could embrace him and lean down to press a kiss to his forehead lovingly. "I had always wondered how you looked now and what you thought. I'm glad you've grown to be who you are" she admitted, stepping back, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Nico nodded, suddenly left with no words to express how he felt or how to say his farewell.

It was until she turned around and started walking towards the second door that the words he should have said hit him with the strength of a hurricane.

He had told her everything, everything but the one thing that he should have, everything but the one thing that could shatter the pride that shone in his mother's eyes or put in evidence her blinkered view.

"Don't leave yet" he muttered, almost screaming before he could stop to think about the consequences of his actions. He had gripped Maria's right wrist with his hands, he noted nervously. The woman turned around slowly, a worried eyebrow raised at him.

"Yes, tesoro?" she inquired.

"I-I need to tell you something" he let out, shrugging, both his hands playing with the fabric of his shirt, his eyes turned to the floor. "I… I don't like… for a relationship, a romantic relationship, I mean…" he clarified. "I don't like gi—"

"Girls" she cut him off gently. It was not a question, but a statement; she was sure of what she was saying, she hadn't even hesitated.

Time seemed to stop, as if the circumstances weren't strange enough already. Nico's racing thoughts seemed to freeze, as well as his nervous movements. The only thing that continued to throb was his fear.

"Excuse me?" he asked, almost whispered. But he dared raise his eyes because Maria's voice hadn't been filled with despise and disgust, but with comprehension, as always.

"Girls" Maria repeated. "You prefer guys. Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

To say that Nico was flabbergasted was an understandment. His jaw nearly hit the floor as he opened it in surprise and his eyebrows reached his bangs when he raised them. Looking into her son's aghast expression, Maria couldn't help but chuckle.

"How do you… How do you know…?" Nico stuttered.

"Your father told me" she smiled, raising her left hand to caress Nico's cheek gently. "He also told me that things have changed in the living world, for good. That you could get married and have a family. I-I don't really get that part" she admitted sheepishly. "But I'm willing to learn and I'm proud of who you are no matter who your heart choses in the end" she assured.

At his mother's words, Nico could almost feel his eyes glaze over with both happiness and relief. It was one thing that his father and Persephone —Greek immortal gods, for crying out loud— or the demigods at the camp —open-minded teenagers from this century— knew about his sexuality and accepted it. It was another thing entirely to listen to his mother —someone from his very own time, a time in which being gay could have resulted in getting killed— say that she still loved him all the same, gender preferences and laws aside.

"Oh, you were worried about what this old woman might have said, right, tesoro? Because on out time things were done differently? You're talking to an anarchist here, to a liberal. I didn't wait seventy years to see you only to, when I finally get the opportunity to do it, ruin everything turning my back on you. I never approved of Hitler's and Mussolini's ways, let me tell you" she admitted. "Along with Jews and gypsies they decided to kill and burn everyone who was different from them—homosexuals, old people, crippled people... Humanity seems to have forgotten that by now, but we, ghosts, can't forget, and we know better".

"I bet sometimes you still wonder why you are alive when you're from another epoch" she continued. "Well, I like to think that things happen for a reason, that the Fates know how to do their job, and if you stayed forty or sixty years imprisoned in time before you discovered your sexuality and came to a world that has changed in that sense and in your favor, then you're lucky, my son, very lucky" she assured.

"Mamma*…" Nico whispered, catching Maria's hand with his own and pressing it against his cheek, taking in the cool temperature of her skin. He'd later wonder how was it even possible that he could touch a ghost, but right then, it simply didn't matter.

"Nico" she said back fondly. "Don't you worry about what I think. Break the mold, be yourself. I was a single mother in a time when etiquette didn't allow it, and that is my biggest pride" she admitted.

They stayed like that for a long, comfortable time, just staring into each other's black orbs, a copy of their own, until Maria's brow furrowed, remembering.

"I still have to go" Maria realized, her voice filled with sorrow. "But please remember: some things may change, for good or for bad, but some things never change, and you'll always be my baby, tesoro" she whispered, standing on her tip-toes to press a kiss to her boy's forehead, a mirror of what Persephone often did, the touch welcomed and well-known.

Seconds later, Maria directed herself to the second door, looking away from Nico hurriedly, in an attempt to not let him see her tears, although her smile never faltered.

Still smiling, eyes wet and chest heavy with pride and longing, Maria di Angelo opened the feared door and disappeared behind it, her lean figure washed by a clear light as soon as she stepped outside of the room.

They hadn't said good-bye, Nico noted. It wasn't a farewell, but an 'I'll see you soon'.

Slowly, in deep thought, but smiling too, he directed himself to his own door.

—*—*—

Something around a week after had passed since the previous events, and the small family constituted by Hades, his son and wife was once again reunited around the table, eating.

The meal had lapsed pretty normally, even as Persephone noted how Nico kept his gaze down and fidgeted every now and then; she was worried, puzzled, but she knew Nico, and she knew better than to openly ask him what was wrong. So she had decided to wait until he was ready to talk about it, silently letting anguish devour her.

Fortunately for Persephone's nerves, she didn't have to wait much longer until Nico let his silverware down and raised his eyes, deciding it was time to speak.

"Father" he called solemnly. "Can I ask a favor from you?"

Hades nodded, brow furrowed.

"And what is that one thing?" he inquired.

"Would you concede me another audience with my mother's spirit?" Nico asked her. "For her to meet Will?"

After thinking about it for days, he had come across this crazy idea and he thought it was a good one. Will Solace, from Apollo and he had started a relationship about a year in the past, when he was about fifteen years old, right after he'd come out to Hades and Persephone and things between his boyfriend and family worked fine; in fact, Will had dropped by the Underworld in a couple of occasions and even Charon and Alecto approved of him. It was just fair that Maria met him too, it was a rational request he was asking for.

But maybe Hades didn't agree, Nico realized as he noted his stiffened figure. He directed his eyes to Persephone, looking for support, but his stepmother had frozen just as well, her eyes caught in the food of her plate.

"Excuse me?" Hades inquired, pulling him out from his thoughts.

"Just to introduce them" Nico assured. "After that, she'll be gone, and I won't ever ask to see her again".

The room itself seemed to hold its breath, to bit its lip, to be concerned of the outcome of such a heart-breaking story, as everyone but Alecto, who had entered the dining room at some point, unnoticed by all; she did not look worried, in fact, she didn't seem to feel anything at all.

"Haven't you told him?" she asked with her usual taunt-filled voice. Hades sent her a fulminant glare, but she only responded with a crooked smile.

"What?" Nico spat. "What haven't you told me? What do I not know?"

"Nico…" Persephone tried in a low voice, but her attempts became ignored by both Nico and Hades.

The lord of the Underworld sighed, not an intimidating gesture, but a defeated one.

"Maria" he let out. "Your mother she… she reincarnated right after she talked with you that day".

"That was the deal" Persephone nodded sadly.

"Deal?" Nico inquired. "You made a deal?"

"We did" Hades confirmed. "I would materialize her and she would see you, when the time I could give her was over, she would leave".

Nico didn't even know if what he felt was anger or horror. He had lost her again, and not to death, but to reincarnation, just like Bianca. And his father… to know that his father and Persephone had both not only known it, but planned it… that was… that was…

"Where is her tombstone?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"What?" Hades retorted.

"Her tombstone" he repeated. "She must have one. Where is it?"

It was probable that Hades would have thrown up a fuss and refused to answer, but Persephone was the kind of person that thought in a loud voice, and so she let out the response.

"California" she responded, her eyes still glued to the plate. "Trinity, California". Nico sent her a look so full of despise that Persephone couldn't help but shrug.

"I can't believe you did this" he spat before conjuring all the shadows of the place and disappearing. He would find the place of his mother's eternal rest even if he had to look in every graveyard of the country.

—*—*—

He was looking at the white marble of the tombstone, his eyes lost in the furnished letters. Whoever had commanded to do that epitaph, presumably Hades himself, had only asked for two words, that somehow managed to say it all: 'Loving Woman'.

It was a tomb in all rule, Nico noted, with the nameplate of white marble, letters in gold and the cliché angel of granite covering herself with its own wings, as if she were cold.

He had probably stayed in that position, staring at the same spot, for hours, but he couldn't look away, he didn't know how to.

"She was an amazing woman" someone said at his back. Slowly turning over his shoulder, he recognized Persephone, her brunette hair swirling around her in the cold winter air, her green eyes filled with concern.

A part of him wanted to scream at her, to be raging, to hate her, but most of him was simply happy to see her, to know that at least she wasn't mad at him. He simply decided to not say anything instead.

Walking slowly, Persephone caught up with him and looked at the polished rock, a sad smile in her lips.

"What are you doing here?" Nico asked in a low voice after some minutes of silence.

"I came looking for you" the goddess retorted matter-of-factly, but Nico denied moving his head to the sides in disapproval.

"I didn't mean that" he said, avoiding looking at her as hard as he could. "It's winter" he informed, pointing to the weather around them, although Persephone didn't seem to be aware of it, as she was still wearing her short-sleeved tunic.

"That?" Persephone questioned, finally smiling genuinely. Slowly, she dared to raise her right arm and circle Nico's shoulder; he didn't reject her, grateful to feel something he could cling to, something real, something other than the cold, both the one in the outside and in the inside. "Your father is not a tyrant, Nico" she said. "I'm not imprisoned in the Underworld as all of you seem to think. I can leave or stay whenever I want, and I chose to stay every time. In the Underworld, I'm the queen, I'm someone other than Demeter's daughter, and out here I'm not. I can go outside during winter and autumn, but chose not to do it so that my mother doesn't know because otherwise, she'll want to have me in the surface daily, and I like my house and my family down there" she explained, her emerald eyes lost in the horizon; Nico only nodded absently.

They stayed like that for a long time. The silent wasn't forced or uncomfortable, maybe a little bit sad or despaired, but Persephone knew better than speaking when the sorrow hanging in the air was so tangible.

It wasn't until something around ten minutes that she finally dared to speak again.

"It was Maria's idea, you know?" she informed in a low voice. "Hades thought it would be proper and safe for you to meet her, so he went to Elysium to talk to her. Of course she agreed, she had been waiting for this opportunity for decades, as had you, but she set a condition. She asked Hades to promise that he would allow her to reincarnate right after. You know that a soul choses that, and Hades had nothing to do with her decision, but Maria wanted him to know what her plans were.

"Although Hades didn't want her to leave" Persephone continued. "He thought it would be terribly unfair for you, but she insisted. She said it was the right thing for you. After what happened with Bianca, Maria was worried, and with bases. She told your father that even if you could afford seeing her again, she knew she wouldn't be able to take the pain. If she saw you once, she'd want to encounter you again, and you would too, it's just natural" Persephone stopped, biting her lower lip in worry before continuing.

On her side, Nico listened her with his whole attention, even when his eyes seemed absent.

"Hades assured her it wouldn't matter, that she could ask to see you whenever she wanted, but she refused. She said it would be unfair for the others, and it is if you think about it closely and cold-bloodily. Your father is a king, Nico" the woman pointed out. "He had the responsibility to look after thousands of souls, and he is a righteous person. Maria was saying the truth and he knew it, so he agreed. It was never meant to hurt you, Nico" she assured gently. "All both Maria and Hades were trying to do was to protect you".

The boy nodded, but it was a defeated gesture. Slowly, almost as if with fear, he leaned down to rest his head in Persephone's right shoulder. It was almost a funny sight, really, because he was now taller than her, and yet it never seemed so.

"I miss her" he let out hollowly. "And it's stupid because I can't even remember her".

Persephone grimaced slightly, her eyes reflecting the pain that she knew was in her stepson's dark orbs.

"It's not stupid, you do remember her" she said, encircling Nico with both of her arms. "You know who she was, how wonderful she was, and you also know what she left behind when the Fates took her. That is what you miss" she whispered softly. Next to her, Nico inhaled deeply and sighed, the gesture so defeated, it hurt just to listen.

"I miss her" he repeated, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I know, Nico, I know" Persephone whispered back softly, feeling the first sob run down her stepson's back.

The demigod hid his face in the crook of Persephone's neck, taking in the well-known comfort of her warm skin and cried.

It was true that the gesture was seventy years overdue, but he cried. For the first time in seventy years, he cried for the loss of a mother because, for the first time in seven decades he was aware of what he had lost.

And so he cried, and he mourned Maria di Angelo, his mother, for the first time in seventy years, because for the first time in seventy years he knew what he was crying for, and he was aware of how tear-worthy had that woman been.

**Author's Note:**

> And... how did that go? Crashed and burned so bad?
> 
> Okay, so please let me know in the comments whatever you want to say and, completely out of the topic but I just had to write this somewhere in case I don't get through like I want to with my pendants list and can't pass by here soon, if you like this then you should totally check a story I've been writing in cooperation with a very good friend of mine, DWGondolor (and you should also go and check his stories), this other fic should already been here, but as I said before, we've been hella busy, so... we're working on that. Anywas, it has a similar theme to this one, and if you liked this (which I really hope), then I'm almost sure that you'll like that other one. It's called "Mothers Day" (or that's his draft name, we might as well change it at some point, anyways e.e). Whetevs, it's not out yet, so you'll probably have to wait for a month or so because... midterms, but I really hope that you pass by there.
> 
> So... I don't even remember what I was rambling about. Gods, why am I such a disaster?
> 
> Well, that's pretty much what I wanted to say, please let me know in your comments what you think and whethe ror not if you liked this and... yeah... good luck if you have exams coming too!
> 
> Okay, I know I published this like two weeks ago, but I just noticed that I hadn't written the translations (careless me) so I dropped by only to correct this.
> 
> The first asterisk goes for Fetuccini Alfredo. I suck at cooking, so don't ask me what it has, but it's a type of Italian pasta that includes a lot of cream.
> 
> *2 Tesoro: translation for "darling", it's obviously Italian.
> 
> *3 Principe: Italian for "prince".
> 
> Lastly, Mamma, "mom" and yes, I know that it's said the same in English, but the reason why there is an asterick next to it and it's in Italics is because I meant it to be in Italian.
> 
> Now, thank you for reading! Two weeks ago I had no idea that you guys would like this story so much. And, since I already had to correct my note, I just want you to know how thankful I am to all of you who have read and reviewed.


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